


Consultation at the Clocktower

by pentapus



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: (where the outsider is Dick), But first, POV Outsider, Slow Build, a circuitous tour through jason's issues re: richard grayson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 07:01:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13518975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pentapus/pseuds/pentapus
Summary: Dick stumbled when Jason's voice came over his comms. No one had seen him since the docks two days ago, and even then they hadn't seenJason, just the aftermath.





	Consultation at the Clocktower

Dick stumbled when Jason's voice came over his comms. No one had seen him since the docks two days ago, and even then they hadn't seen _Jason_ , just the aftermath. 

It had been a long time since Jason had announced himself with a body count.

“You're doing outreach, N?” Jason said just as Dick was making the jump to the next rooftop, trailing the shadow of Tim's cape.

Jason's voice was a little fuzzy like there was something off with his mic. He hadn't called Dick by any of Jason's preferred nicknames either, which was unusual enough to be striking. The nicknames -- playground insults Dick had heard a thousand times before -- broke communications protocol because they technically contained Dick's name, but that had never stopped Jason before. Besides, he'd say, he wasn't on their fucking team anyway so their protocol didn't apply to him. He'd hacked their frequency, shouldn't they have protocols about _him?_

Jason had to know they did.

“Outreach,” Dick repeated, totally at sea.

“It's on your calendar,” Jason said, sending a shiver of unease down Dick's spine.

Jason paused like something had disrupted his rhythm. _Dick’s_ rhythm was disrupted too, still waiting for a _Dickface_ or _Dickhead_ to pop up, but again: Jason didn't say it. Some of his signature bite came back into his voice as he read, “Kiddie Queer Rally, Tuesday 8pm.”

“It doesn't say that,” Dick said, the ‘ _keep them talking’_ habit kicking in. “Though I'd speak at that too. It's a high school Diversity Night.” Fair point: it did have a gender and sexuality focus.

 _How was Jason reading his calendar_. Jason was no slacker at cyber security, but he wasn't a match for Oracle. The easiest workaround would be for Jason to break into someplace with a person and a computer who _did_ have access, and _that_ worried Dick.

“N,” Jason said, weary like Dick's choices disappointed him and not at all like he'd been missing from their lives for almost a year since his last, disastrous family visit, “you can't talk at a school gay night; the parents are gonna think you're recruiting.”

Dick met Tim's eyes across the roof for a shared moment of _what the hell_. At least, Dick _thought_ it was a shared moment, but after a second, Tim shrugged like he was saying _maybe Jason's got a point_.

Dick gave him a wounded glare. Tim had a lot of people on his favorite list above Dick which was Dick's own fault, but if there was anybody against whom Dick expected solidarity, it was Jason. 

“What, because of the tights?” Dick said, aiming for light, but he ran out of patience. He couldn't play this game when he was all too aware of the kind of state Jason could be in after the docks, how badly violence rattled Jason, even if Jason pretended violence was his natural state. “Hood, are you -- ”

“He's visiting me,” Oracle cut in. She'd been silent all night. “We’re having a heart to heart.”

She didn't sound like someone having a heart to heart. She sounded like the Batgirl who'd delighted in giving Dick a hard time, back before she'd had any reason to cut him some slack. He'd been barely 5’5”, growing his hair out in a desperate bid to hide the elephant ears on either side of his head, and stupidly transparent about wanting her to push him around on every rooftop in Gotham.

Her voice had the same fuzz of background noise that Jason's had, and Dick realized with a jolt that Oracle had them on speaker. Jason was _in the room_ with her, and his chest went tight with fear.

Her disinterested calm didn't alleviate his worry. He'd seen the bodies on the docks, the blood running into the water with the rain. Dick knew that the more carefully Jason planned, the fewer people died. No matter what Jason claimed about his enthusiasm for corporal punishment, a Jason who planned was a stable, calm, and noticeably less murderous Jason.

Nothing Dick had seen on the docks had looked like a plan.

“He's waiting for me to throw in a safe word of some kind, and to see which one it'll be,” Babs said. Her voice had gotten quiet like she wasn't aiming it at the mic -- she was talking to Jason _. About_ Dick.

“Yeah, well, _why don't you_.” Jason sounded like he was gritting his teeth.

“I really haven't decided yet.” 

Dick rotated slowly on his heel until he was facing the direction of the clocktower, about three miles southeast. He wasn't going to be the one to tell Jason that he and Babs didn't have the system of safe words that Batman and Robin did. It was just… intuition and knowing each other too well. That she’d toldJason Dick was expecting a safe word _told_ Dick a lot, and some of it he didn't like.

Dick could tell she felt in control of the situation. A little _too_ in control honestly, enough that he worried she was underestimating Jason's ability to pose an intelligent and effective threat, even when half out of his head. But there was something else -- some pound of flesh she intended to get out of Jason before she was done with him, a toll she'd decided Jason was going to pay, but Dick hadn't the faintest idea what it was or why now. The whole conversation felt like Babs making Jason jump through a series of hoops -- jerking him around with false information about safe words, for one -- and the weirdest part was that Jason seemed to be willing to jump. 

Was that why he’d reeled in the dick jokes? Had Babs made _not insulting Dick over comms_ a condition of his presence in the clocktower?

What the fuck were the two of them doing?

Tim appeared at Dick's shoulder, tapping at the mini computer on his forearm. He murmured, “They can't hear me.”

Dick nodded. He lifted an eyebrow, remembered it was under his mask, and flicked a finger in a _go ahead_ gesture instead.

“No distress signal from O,” and here Tim looked up to check in with Dick, who made an all-clear sign: yes, Dick's expert read on Babs was that she was okay, “but B is on the move.”

Dick closed his eyes against a vision of exactly how badly that could go. _Bruce, stay out of it._

It was an impossible fantasy. Batman wouldn’t exist if Bruce hadn't been born with an inability to stay out of bad situations, which meant it was now Dick’s problem.

“Hey,” Steph's voice came over the radio. She wasn't on this mission, so she shouldn't have been on comms, but Tim didn't react. He must have coordinated a distraction while Dick was... busy actually being distracted. “Are we talking about how N’s too pretty to talk to parents about being nice to gay kids?”

"Wait,” Dick said, “ _is_ that what we're talking about?”

He should have caught that. ‘Pretty boy’ Dick Grayson was another of Jason's favorite targets, but only when he was angry enough to get really nasty. But Jason hadn't sounded _cruel_ , and Dick hadn't even thought of it.

Tim did look up then, giving Dick an unimpressed look.

Dick mouthed clearly _Get Steph here._ Dick was officially off this mission.

Tim sighed.

“Okay,” Dick said, back on comms, “first off -- _Nightwing_ is visiting the school, and I wear a mask. Secondly, you know the ‘pretty’ jokes were started by people literally trying to kill me, and it was based on me being smaller than B.” 

Dick waited for a comment about how time hadn't really solved the sizeproblem, but it didn't come.

Jason hadn't said anything since demanding O give Dick the all clear. Dick should have been happy that Jason wasn't showing any teeth, but it was just making him anxious about something being really wrong. He started bouncing slightly on his feet, fingers tapping at his hip, eyes straining towards the clocktower.

It was seeming more and more like whatever had happened at the docks hadn’t been what Jason had intended. Which meant he and Tim really needed to finish their mission tonight, which was _about_ the docks, about who had been there a few nights ago. But did that matter? Jason was _right there_. Dick could just _ask_ him. 

Except he didn’t know if the detente Jason had with Babs would survive Dick's arrival. After Bruce and the Joker, Dick was a top contender for Jason's most volatile trigger. 

Babs… wasn’t. None of Jason's worst wounds had anything to do with her. It meant Dick _shouldn’t_ go to the clocktower, and he hated knowing that. Fuck.

Steph made a thoughtful noise. “You know the mask doesn't really cut the cheekbones or the -- wow, yep, I am on open comms, and you are not Double-R. I mean, of course, you aren't. Because you're the one talking. Right. Please, O, find me a mugger who can put me out of my misery.”

Babs snorted. 

Dick took a step towards the clocktower.

“It's not like there’s anybody in this conversation that wouldn't make an appealing spokesperson for a cause,” Tim said, re-joining the main channel. “Our masked personas get PR requests all the time, and we aren't even in the phone book.”

Dick tried to shoot him a grateful look, but Tim was focused on the small screen in his gauntlet. Together they watched a small dot move towards downtown. Batman and imminent, _very foreseeable_ disaster.

Ok, great. If Dick couldn't go to the Clocktower, neither could Bruce.

“Yes, children, you're all pretty enough to attract gross sexual insults,” Babs said. “No need to be jealous.”

Dick's skin prickled uncomfortably. This was such a weird fucking conversation to have especially when he was thinking about Bruce and Jason, especially when the people having it were sort of his younger siblings. People didn't care about his looks like this out of costume, not the same way. Out of costume, he liked being confident in how he looked. He liked knowing he could get a person to smile back or that his partners enjoyed giving him the attention he asked for. He _liked_ attention; he knew that, he didn't even need the barely remembered roar of a crowd to remind him. 

But step into the costume, and the attention turned. He existed on a playing field of people bigger, stronger, and meaner, who would use any means of exerting power over someone else. It was only in costume that people talked about Dick like he was Batman's bit on the side, a honey pot in tights, a universally desired commodity. It was about _dominance_ , and it put him on the spot in a way that nothing like being on a stage.

He knew Steph, Cass, Babs all got some of the same, and _they_ couldn't get away from it by taking off a mask. But Babs had told him once that at least in Gotham, there was a special malice in the way villains talked about Nightwing (nee Robin). Batman was untouchable, and his titanium exterior did something to his rogues, made them crazy with frustration so that every failed barb was re-aimed at Robin 1.0 with added venom. 

Dick really didn't mind it from his friends, but Jason was -- with Jason, Dick didn't know when the comments were going to be nasty. Even when they weren't, they never felt casual.

Because of that, he opened his mouth and said something he knew was a stupid idea even as he was saying it: “I'm not _that_ good looking.”

“ _Jesus Christ_ ,” Jason swore, disgusted.

Well, at least he was still _there._ Dick winced. “Ok, can we erase that from the record.”

“Record keeper says definitely not,” Babs said. She still sounded alright, in control. He let that move through him, reassuring.

They needed to get off this topic and out of this rut where the only person _acting_ on Jason's presence at the clocktower was Bruce. Dick and Tim had a payoff meeting to interrupt, to find out who had been responsible for the surveillance blackout on the docks that had ended in a bloodbath and a misdirected police response afterward.

The obvious answer was: Jason. But it didn't feel like that was the whole story, especially not now.

“Okay,” Steph said, “I'm not gonna say N’s out of our league. _But._ It's like… on him, the Bat abs are unnecessary. As opposed to say, RR, where they made top three best features, easy.”

Babs made a thoughtful, smug sound. A _been there, done that_ kind ofsound that had Dick doing a double take.

It wasn't that Babs _never_ reminded people they'd dated, but this wasn't the right context. They weren't in a flirty period, for one thing. It was off pattern, and it had to be deliberate.

“Thanks,” Tim said dryly.

“Ok,” Dick said, “we have a job to do. O, are you ready to offer logistical support or is the houseguest a problem?”

“Finally,” Babs said. Dick decided to take that at face value, that this was why she'd put herself on their comms. She wanted a productive distraction, Jason involved in a Bat-approved team activity. “And no, my intern and I are ready. We don't have anything to do except watch a dot move on a screen, and we're tired of it.”

Dick and Tim shot each other a tense look. Jason knew Bruce was coming. Was that intentional on Babs' part? Or was it a readout Babs hadn't been able to turn off with Jason there watching her?

“Let's go,” Dick said.

“I didn't realize you were in costume,” Jason said abruptly.

“What?”

“In costume, visiting the school.” A pause. “That's a good idea.”

Dick was struck with a sudden image of Babs watching Jason encouragingly in that way she had that was less supportive, more _expectant._ Like she was coaching Jason _._ But that was ridiculous. It made no sense at all.

Babs had given Dick that _impress me_ look when he'd been struggling with breaking away from Bruce, even if that whole situation had turned out messier between him and Babs than either of them had hoped. Babs, like Alfred, like Tim, like anyone with sense, had chosen Bruce over Dick when it came down to it. She'd stayed in Gotham to work with the best to _be_ the best. Even Jason would choose Bruce given the chance. How could he not? Bruce was at the center of his trauma, and for Jason that was his world. There was too much Jason needed from Bruce -- love, recognition, forgiveness, a _father_ \-- and nothing at all he needed from Dick.

Damian was probably Dick's only hope for having someone in his life who loved him more than they loved Bruce. Dick hated that his need to beat Bruce once in _anyone's_ affections might color his decisions in relation to his Robin, or that he would compete with Bruce over Bruce's _actual biological son_. But it _did_ color Dick's decisions because Dick _did_ care. His purity of heart was like his looks: wildly over-inflated in reputation.

“Do you want to come?” Dick said impulsively.

“No,” Babs said flatly. “I don't organize public relations for executioners.”

“Fuck you,” Jason said, but he sounded hollow. Like he'd barely gotten the breath for it out of his mouth.

 _That_ got to Dick, lodging a hook somewhere under his ribs. 

He didn't know if Babs was draining a wound or breaking Jason down. Something fundamental was happening between Oracle and the Red Hood, some kind of emotional open heart surgery, and Dick wasn't there. Dick wasn't the kind of person who could listen to a problem being dealt with without wanting to solve it himself. The more delicate the problem, the worse his need to be in the middle of it.

He turned halfway toward the clocktower. Tim grabbed his elbow, and Dick knew there was good reason to listen. But there was an equally good argument that Dick was dangerously unreliable with his attention torn like this. Dick flashed him the signs for BG -- call in Steph. Tim grimaced.

Dick was tagging out.

“O,” he said. “I want him along.”

“On the mission? I don't think so.”

“On diversity night.”

“In costume?” Jason said. “You're a fucking idiot.”

"Come in a different costume. Or out of costume -- O, what's doable? A substitute teacher?”

“Isn't that job hell,” Jason muttered.

"Perfect,” Babs said.

Jason didn't say anything, but there was a sound on the radio that was a remarkably good imitation of one of Damian's dismissive huffs.

It hit Dick that barring Jason going AWOL before Tuesday (very possible), he had just agreed to manage Jason out of costume while Dick was _in_ costume at a _school_ during an event for vulnerable kids. Kids and schools being sources of both protectiveness and deep insecurity for Jason. And neither was as much of a minefield for Jason as _Dick_. It had the potential to be a total shitshow. 

Dick let out a slow breath, the same steadying breath he'd been taking his whole life since the first time he'd stepped off a high platform into thin air. 

A soft crunch behind them was Steph arriving. She must have headed their way as soon as Tim had called her in to be backup on comms. Tim had his head down watching the Batman dot move inexorably towards the clocktower. What Dick could see of his face was perfectly expressionless.

Tim pulled up Dick's own locator signal. Dick watched him turn it off and start a mimic signal tied to Tim's own. Steph peered over his shoulder, shooting Dick a worried look. Her cheeks were pink. She must have really meant that comment about the cheekbones and the sixpack. He gave her a smile and a teasing salute -- cheekbones signing off -- before giving Tim the nod. 

Red Robin flipped his screen back into his gauntlet in a practiced motion and stepped up to the ledge. Now Dick just had to get to the Clocktower before Bruce did.

“Mission start,” Dick said. “Wish us luck.”

"Don't die, I guess,” Jason said.

Tim and Steph jumped. Dick ran for his bike.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is self-indulgence from top to bottom. In particular, having to piece shit together from an outside POV (Dick's POV of Jason) and Dick being subtly (and not so subtly) targeted for his looks. I'm just very weak for that nonsense, ok. 
> 
> I'm not sure when there will be more to this, but I liked this first part enough to post. I hope there are a few people out there who enjoyed it. :)


End file.
